


the promise of forever

by crimsun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Obligatory Beach Scene, renhyuck have a terrible time in the closet but everything is okay in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28926939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsun/pseuds/crimsun
Summary: Time is slow and sticky against Donghyuck's skin when he spends it like this.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 21
Kudos: 96





	the promise of forever

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by [v's poem](https://www.instagram.com/p/CJ9GOe4hgbw/?igshid=1ls7nvqx4gqit)! without her this fic wouldn't exist, so this goes out to u <3 you guys should check all her other poetry out too, it's wonderful!
> 
> I experimented a lot but I think this is one of the works I'm most proud of, so I hope you guys enjoy it too!

Time is slow and sticky against Donghyuck's skin when he spends it like this — lips against lips, pressing his knees against Renjun's ribcage in an attempt to keep him still, giggles muffled into his collarbones right where Renjun would suck at his skin only a second later. 

It makes Donghyuck feel raw in a way he can't describe. Renjun flips them over in a moment of distraction — because even in moments like this they both want to be in control, and that's what Donghyuck likes most, rough hands framed in tender kisses — and Donghyuck feels like he's been turned inside out. Emotions and viscera alike are out in the open for Renjun to see, to dissect. 

But Renjun's eyes don't stray from his. They find Donghyuck after every touch and every kiss, pooling with desire and something sweet, like he can read Donghyuck's mind, read the shift in his mood like the cover of a magazine. And why wouldn't he? He's always been able to see past Donghyuck's thickest walls. That's the principle of their thing. 

(Donghyuck doesn't try to get on top of Renjun again.)

Eventually the heavy summer air weighs them both down until they're pressed against each other on the mattress, Renjun's head on Donghyuck's chest, hair tickling his chin. Their only company is the setting sun casting shadows over Renjun's desk, basking the drawings hung on his wall in a warm, golden glow and their panting breaths. 

Donghyuck means to let the moment sit, to bask in the quiet with Renjun until it's dark out and his only two options are to face his mom's wrath for being late or to sneak out the window and run back to his bike, which he parked two houses away, and pedal like his life depends on it. But there's a question that's been eating at the back of his brain, persistent like an itch you refuse to scratch for fear of it getting worse. Donghyuck is curious, insatiable on a good day, and he knows he won't be able to relax until he voices it out loud.

His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "Have you told your parents yet?"

Renjun is quiet for so long Donghyuck starts to mourn the loss of an answer thinking he's asleep, but suddenly he shifts to look him in the eye. The angle must hurt his neck, since his head is still stubbornly on Donghyuck's chest, but his carefully blank expression betrays nothing. 

"No, not yet," he whispers back, and if Renjun can read Donghyuck like a magazine then Donghyuck can pick up his chords by ear and play him like a melody. The way his voice wavers with anxiety isn’t lost to him. "You?"

Donghyuck shakes his head, and Renjun shimmies until he's back to his previous position, but he takes one of Donghyuck's hands with both of his and starts drawing a pattern in his palm. Donghyuck feels himself starting to relax. 

"We'll figure it out," Renjun says after a while, lacing his fingers with Donghyuck's and giving his hand a squeeze. 

Donghyuck squeezes back. "We will. We'll be okay."

Their love is by no means loud. 

While they might _be_ loud — when they joke around with each other, when they bicker about the most mundane things and _especially_ when they fight — the way they love is different. It's the way their hands brush when they walk past each other in the hallways, sweet words whispered between the sheets, muffled because Renjun's lips are pressed to Donghyuck's cheeks. It's how Donghyuck keeps hold of Renjun's hand for a fraction of a second longer than necessary when they're roughhousing. It's the way they catch each other's eyes across the room when they're not supposed to be looking. 

It's the little and the big things snowballing together into one huge mess of little everythings and big nothings that makes itself a home on Donghyuck's chest and lights it on fire.

It's Renjun. Plain and simple. And Donghyuck can never get enough of him. 

That's what gives them away. Donghyuck has never been anything but selfish, and the way he abuses their quiet way of loving is bound to make a watchful eye and a trained ear are bound to ask questions. 

In their case, it's Jaemin. Attuned to his best friends in a way no one else could ever be, he knows exactly how to read the script in Donghyuck's magazine, the exact order in which Renjun plays his chords. They should've seen it coming, really.

It starts with a sharp glance when Donghyuck leaves their lunch table a little too quickly after Renjun for it to be a coincidence, a raised eyebrow when he catches Renjun trying to discreetly pile beef onto Donghyuck's plate and ends with Jaemin cornering Donghyuck in the middle of a party neither of them are exactly sure how they got to. Renjun disappeared to find the bathroom twenty minutes ago and was yet to return.

"What?" he asks, as bored and neutral as he can manage even though he knows Jaemin can see right through him. But keeping appearances is the only thing keeping Donghyuck from crumbling right then and there, in a random house with shitty lighting surrounded by other teenagers drunk on illegally acquired alcohol, so he holds onto it fiercely and with determination.

"You're with Renjun," he says, tone plain, and in the darkness Donghyuck can't really tell if the way his eyebrows crease is out of anger or concern. His palms start to sweat. 

As much as he wants to lie, Donghyuck knows he can't do that to his best friend. To _their_ best friend. He knows Renjun would do the same. 

"Yeah," he says. His voice comes out scratchy and dry, like he hadn't used it in days. Swallowing hurts.

Jaemin nods once, and for a moment Donghyuck thinks this is it. He can practically see ten years of friendship being shoved down the drain as Jaemin turns around and walks away. Instead, lean, wiry arms wrap around Donghyuck in a bone crushing hug.

"You're not as subtle as you think you are," he whispers against Donghyuck's ear. He isn't sure if it's the way Jaemin's hot breath fans across his ear or the way he says it — voice hoarse with barely contained elation — but Donghyuck's knees buckle. Jaemin only tightens his grip, holding him tight against his chest. 

"I'm happy for you," he says, and the conviction, the way Jaemin practically forces Donghyuck to hear him, to _believe_ in his words, gives him enough strength to wrap his arms around Jaemin's waist. "And I'm here for you — both of you. Forever and always."

News spreads like wildfire in a small town, they say. For a friend group like the one they've created — a small town in its own right, or more like their own little universe, crafted carefully to perfectly accommodate all seven of them — this is no exception. 

Acknowledgement, and in turn acceptance, doesn’t come in the form of a commotion, or a big celebration. Instead, it's in the details. 

It's in the way Jeno smiles down at their pinkies joined beneath the dinner table, in the way Jisung whines at them to stop being so in love and feed him already. It comes in the way Mark gently nudges Donghyuck towards the empty spot on the couch next to Renjun and how Chenle gags when they spend a little too long staring at each other across the backyard.

Renjun looks at Donghyuck with pure elation, cheeks bunched up in a smile free of anything but content one afternoon after Chenle scoffs at them, saying, "If you're gonna make out, take it outside." 

Behind the twinkle in his eyes there's a message, a set of chords that play out relief. They're okay. They're figuring it out, and they're okay. 

Donghyuck smiles back, the force of it pulling at his chapped lips, and laughs until his sides hurt while Renjun chases Chenle around the living room.

On nights when Renjun comes rapping softly on his window — the sweet two long taps, one short tap he's become so accustomed to — Donghyuck knows not to say anything. If Renjun's cheeks are red and raw, Donghyuck makes sure he wipes the tear tracks with warm water so they don't get sticky. If Renjun is only wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pajama pants in the dead of winter, Donghyuck just gets another blanket and cranks up the heater.

They don't kiss or cuddle close. Instead, they lie on Donghyuck's bed, shoulders pressed together, as Renjun counts the glow in the dark stars he himself glued to Donghyuck's ceiling after complaining that it was too boring. Sometimes Renjun will hold his hand if he feels like it, but mostly they sit in silence and enjoy the company — their breaths syncing, eyes unblinking in the almost-darkness. 

There's a heaviness that hangs in the air, familiar in the way it wraps both of them up like a blanket. But it's gone by morning, with the sun that shines directly into their eyes through Donghyuck's still open window. 

The last of the fog dissipates with the press of Renjun's lips against his own and everything isn't okay, but it might be. Donghyuck knows they both hold on to hope.

"I want to run away," Renjun says, breath crystallizing in front of him as he sighs out into the dead winter air. He’s bundled up in his winter jacket, head resting on top of a bunched up scarf he had stolen from Donghyuck’s closet before they made their way to the rooftop.

"We could be gone already, if that's really what you want to do," Donghyuck replies, indulging, because over the years, both of them have learnt how to dance to each other's tune, moving to the beat of their own secret song. It's all in the practice, a craft that they've perfected over the years, that leaves no hidden lies and no secrets to be told. 

Donghyuck knows Renjun would be gone already, if he really wanted to.

Renjun snorts, but he moves closer to him, snaking his arms under Donghyuck’s head and around his neck. "What makes you think I'd take you along?"

Donghyuck pouts, a practically mechanical response. “You mean you wouldn’t?”

Renjun rolls his eyes. As unattractive as it should be, Donghyuck can’t help but think he belongs here, with the moon reflecting on the ceaseless pool of his eyes and the stars a mere backdrop to Renjun's existence. "No, I'll take you," he says, holding out his pinky. "Promise."

Donghyuck can’t help but laugh. “What are you, five?”

Instead of gracing him with an answer, Renjun only gives him a pointed look, tilting his head towards the still outstretched finger. There’s something dancing in his eyes — warm, almost scalding and so, so hopeful that Donghyuck, ever the fool, could never even dream of shattering so, with a sigh (to keep appearances and all) he wraps Renjun’s pinky in his own. 

The world starts and ends right there — with their breaths pillowed in each other's necks and Renjun's pinky wrapped around his own like it's always belonged there. The stars whisper goodnight and kiss the backs of their eyelids. The wind sings lullabies, crooning about a universe where they're free, a universe where they can hold hands outside the school parking lot and kiss under the shade of the palm trees just outside the entrance of the mall. Donghyuck holds it close to his chest.

Sand and sweat stick to Donghyuck's skin like time well spent. The wind stings his cheeks like a kiss from an old friend and sand finds its way between his toes like it's always belonged there. 

Some things are more okay than others, but Donghyuck thinks he can live like this for now — with the summer sun beating down in his face, salt stinging the corners of his eyes, Jisung's screams in the distance as Jeno chases him down and into the water while Chenle eggs him on. The wind carries Mark's laughter all the way to the shore, where Jaemin tries to coax a small crab onto his hand with a leaf. 

It's not much, but it's enough to know he's found a place for himself with these people. To know they've created their own little nook of Earth, a safe space they carry with them like refuge. 

Renjun's lips press against his behind the jagged rocks at the edge of the beach. The promise of forever tastes sweet against Donghyuck's tongue. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/chneji)   
> [cc](http://curiouscat.me/honeytips)


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